


Toasted

by a_gay_poster



Category: Naruto
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Hatake Kakashi/Might Guy implied, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 05:18:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17995622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_gay_poster/pseuds/a_gay_poster
Summary: Gaara leans in close, his mouth a bit sloppy against Lee’s ear.“I’m drunk,” he mumbles, and then he giggles.In four years of dating, and many years of friendship before, Lee hasneverheard Gaara giggle.---Or, Gaara gets absolutely shitfaced, and Lee has to deal with the fallout.





	Toasted

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't sleep, so instead I wrote this very ridiculous fic. Sorry in advance for the patent absurdity. This was inspired by a very silly conversation on the gaalee biker gang server. Thanks for the laughs, y'all, and sorry for inflicting this on everyone. 
> 
> Also, this fic is set in the Blank Period, so I've just used my own headcanon for the order of transfer of Kage powers. For the purposes of this story, Kurotsuchi is the Tsuchikage, Darui just became the Raikage, Mei is still the Mizukage, and Kakashi is still the Hokage.

It starts with a Five Kage summit. In celebration of the ascension of the new Raikage, a brief meeting has been called in Konoha, to be followed by festivities. 

Lee always looks forward to Kage summits held in his home village. He doesn’t get to see his partner often enough, and long distance remains a challenge. Even when the occasion isn’t as momentous as this one, Lee truly treasures any opportunity to spend time with Gaara. He’s already planned out a full schedule of activities for after the summit, and he couldn’t be looking forward to it more. 

After the summit comes the reception, and that’s where the trouble starts. The Kage are all in attendance, of course, as well as their bodyguards and advisors. In addition, and a bit unusually, the Kages’ spouses and partners have also been invited. (A matter over which the Mizukage threw a minor tantrum, Gaara confided to Lee on the way to the reception hall.) 

And this is how Lee finds himself cornered by Kurotsuchi’s boisterous and _remarkably_ buff girlfriend, whose name he has already forgotten. She’s lecturing him on weight training. 

“It’s all about the reps,” she expounds, flexing one bulging bicep. She’s a bit into her cups, her words slightly slurred, but her advice is sound. Lee wishes he wasn’t wearing his formal jacket, so he would have access to his notebook. Some of her tips are really quite good. 

Lee intended to spend the reception with Gaara, hopefully spending the minimum amount of time necessary at the party and then making their excuses, so they could retreat to Lee’s apartment and _really_ get to enjoy each other’s company. However, Lee lost track of him somewhere between Akatsuchi forcing a colorful cocktail into Gaara’s hand and Mei sweeping him up with one arm around his shoulder and a bottle of rice wine in her other hand. 

He’s trying to track Gaara down with his eyes when Gai-sensei cuts into his conversation with Kurotsuchi’s girlfriend and starts asking her about her training regimen. Lee demurs her offer to bench-press him (though he has no doubt he could do it, and he _really_ wants to see her try); he’s afraid the Tsuchikage might find the behavior undignified. He takes the opportunity to slip over to the drink table and hastily down a glass of water, seemingly the only non-alcoholic beverage available in the room. 

He’s well into chugging his second cup, eyes scanning the gathering, when Gaara swims out of the crowd and slithers up to him. He moves in a little too close, his fingers plucking at the gold-threaded closures on Lee’s jacket. 

“Lee,” he murmurs. His breath is boozey, warm across Lee’s cheek. “Help me.”

Lee’s blood momentarily runs cold. He reaches out and grabs Gaara’s waist to stabilize him - he’s swaying ever-so-slightly. 

“What’s wrong?” Lee hisses urgently, his blood pressure rising as he surveys the room for any sign of danger.

Gaara leans in close, his mouth a bit sloppy against Lee’s ear.

“I’m drunk,” he mumbles, and then he giggles. 

In four years of dating, and many years of friendship before, Lee has _never_ heard Gaara giggle. The sound is charming - adorable, if he’s being honest - but also a little alarming. 

“Is that all?” he asks. “You’re not in danger?” His shoulders still haven’t quite relaxed.

Gaara fixes him with an odd look, his eyes hazy and unfocused but his expression deadly serious.

“It _is_ dangerous,” he says. 

All the blood drains from Lee’s face.

“Kankuro can’t find out,” Gaara whispers, a bit spittily. 

“Why not?” Lee whispers back. “He’s your bodyguard, it’s his job to protect you.”

Gaara moves his hands to Lee’s shoulders, his face solemn. 

“The first time I got drunk, when I was sixteen… It was after a council meeting, and those old farts kept offering me cups of sake. I didn’t know what my tolerance was, and I’d never had a drink before... “ 

Lee nods. “What does this have to do with Kankuro, though?” he prods gently.

Gaara’s eyes snap up to meet his.

“I puked in Black Ant.”

“What?!” 

“Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh.” Gaara shoves one finger to Lee’s mouth. Presumably he’s attempting a shushing gesture, but all he really accomplishes is rubbing Lee’s lips around messily. “He can’t find out … because he’ll make fun of me.” 

Lee’s body sags with relief. This, he can deal with. 

“Gaara, you had me worried!” he scolds. “I thought it was something serious!”

“It is serious,” Gaara protests, his head drifting to lay on Lee’s shoulder. “He treats me like his little brother.”

“You are his little brother,” Lee reminds him. 

“I’m his commanding officer,” Gaara whines, a bit petulantly. “I’m s’posed to be the boss.”

“Okay,” Lee says gently, moving one hand up to smooth down the small of Gaara’s back, where his jacket has gotten rumpled up. “You’re the boss. I’ll help you hide from him.”

“Hey, what are you two perverts doing?” a loud voice crows from behind them. A pair of rough hands clap down on both their shoulders. “There’s no necking at the party, y’know!”

Lee turns around to see Naruto’s grinning mug, his smile blindingly bright.

“Naruto!” Gaara cries. His eyes sparkle at the sight of his friend.

“Whoa, Bushy Brows,” Naruto says. “You let him get like this?”

“I didn’t- “ Lee objects.

“Akatsuchi made me a tequila sunrise… and then Mei wanted to do sake bombs. And then Darui challenged all the Kage to do shots. And then Chojuro offered me some kinda weird liquor he brews in his own still. After that I lost track… “ Gaara trails off.

“Man, you’re gonna have a wicked hangover tomorrow!” Naruto says. “You know you can turn people down when they offer you that stuff, right?” 

“Everyone said ‘just one’, and then it ended up being … more than one,” Gaara protests. “They kept saying it would be rude to Darui.”

“Dude, you totally got set up. They probably all coordinated to get you drunk.”

“Shh!” Gaara hisses, finger to his own mouth in an exaggerated grimace.

“We are, uh, avoiding the ‘D’ word,” Lee explains.

“Sure, sure,” Naruto agrees genially. “Anyway, this whole situation seems to be winding down.” Naruto indicates the reception hall with one hand, a sea of empty plastic cups and a jumble of disarrayed chairs. In one corner, Omoi is dancing idly by himself, his eyes closed and apparently lost to the world. Mei seems to have lost consciousness entirely, face down on the table and her hair a pool of red around her. “So a couple of us were talking about moving on to the bar?”

Lee opens his mouth to object, to tell Naruto that he’s going to take his very tipsy partner back to his apartment to sleep this off, but before he can, Gaara cuts in. 

“The bar!” he exclaims. “It’s perfect! Kankuro will never look for me there.”

Lee finds himself trailing the two jinchuuriki as they escape through a side door.

* * *

Lee isn’t sure what possessed him to agree to being, essentially, the designated sober minder of two intoxicated demon vessels. The three of them are crammed into a corner booth in one of Konoha’s dingier bars, all dark wood and the smell of liquor. The bartender, at least, seems suitably discreet, deliberately avoiding Lee’s gaze when he swanned them both into the establishment. 

Naruto has been doing most of the talking, which is something of a relief. Drunk Gaara is pretty entertaining, but he also has a bit of a loose tongue, as Lee unfortunately discovered when he went to sit Gaara down in their booth, and Gaara grabbed one of Lee’s legs in a bruising grip, mumbling, “Wow, you have great thighs.” 

Lee supposes it’s for the best that at least one level head is here to keep the two from getting too out of hand. So far, he’s managed to talk Naruto out of a round of flaming shots, a shuriken throwing competition, and an attempt to demonstrate some form of medical ninjutsu that he’s one-hundred percent sure Naruto is unqualified to administer. 

He didn’t manage to talk him out of a round of beers or a basket of wings, however. Naruto is scarfing them down like it’s going out of style. Lee is half-concerned that he’s going to choke on a chicken bone, but he assumes that the Nine Tails will intervene if it comes to that. Meanwhile, Gaara has been systematically working his way through the vegetables, which he keeps double-dipping. It’s … pretty gross, if Lee’s being honest, but he doesn’t want to say anything because Gaara’s using two hands to eat the carrot sticks, and it makes him look like a squirrel, and that’s absolutely precious. Gaara’s also on his second beer, which is somewhat more concerning. 

Lee nurses his glass of water and tries to keep his posture straight. He’s positioned himself on the outside of the booth, to block the toasted Kazekage from prying eyes, but also to protect him from harm in the event that something does go wrong. Even completely wasted, Gaara could probably handle himself, but Lee would rather not find out. This also places him in the perfect position to prop Gaara up, one arm wrapped securely around his waist. Gaara keeps listing into him, like his body has forgotten how to keep itself upright. 

Naruto is in the middle of describing … _something_. Lee has honestly lost track, the story somewhat rambling and incoherent. Gaara is nodding along and seemingly rapt, so at least the two of them are speaking the same language. Lee picks up on the words ‘Sasuke’ and ‘bastard’, so he’s pretty sure Naruto’s talking about his favorite topic.

“But listen,” Gaara interrupts Naruto’s monologue, slurring. “Does he have fantastic eyebrows and a heart of gold?”

Naruto looks a bit taken aback. He considers for a moment and then says, “I mean, his eyebrows are … average, I guess.”

“Then what the _fuck_ is the point?!” Gaara yells, slamming a fist onto the table. The cups and plates rattle. 

Lee straightens up even more as every eye in the bar turns to focus on them. He says a small prayer of thanks that the sand isn’t involved. Naruto starts laughing uproariously. 

Gaara looks around, a bit perturbed, and then leans over further into Lee’s space.

“I’m sorry, Lee,” he says, with a sloppy kiss to Lee’s cheek. “I know you don’t appreciate coarse language. I promise I’ll make it up to you later.” His cheeks are attractively pink, and he rubs at Lee’s leg meaningfully. 

Across the table, Naruto makes a gagging noise. 

Lee attempts to reassure him that it’s just fine, really, no harm done, but maybe it’s time to calm down a bit, when Gaara’s eye catches on something in the corner of the room.

“This guy!” he yells, jumping to his feet, one finger extended. From the other end of the bar, Kakashi is trying very hard not to be noticed. Gaara stumbles and almost falls over. Lee stabilizes him with a hand on the hem of his jacket, trying to pull him back to sitting. 

“This guy gets it!” Gaara shouts with another insistent jab of his finger. 

Naruto just laughs harder. Kakashi sinks backwards on his barstool like he’s trying to disappear. 

“All right, Gaara, I think that’s our cue to go home,” Lee says, standing up and taking Gaara by the shoulder. He starts steering him to the door of the bar, Naruto still howling behind them. 

“This motherfucker is the only one in the village who gets me,” Gaara declares with finality, his voice absolutely echoing in the tiny space. The bar goes dead silent. 

Lee’s ears go bright red. He doesn’t know much about diplomacy, but he’s pretty sure that insinuating that the leader of another village does, well, _that_ , is grounds for hostilities between the two great nations. He’s just grateful that Gaara used the Sunan slang term rather than the more well-known swear word in the common dialect. He hopes Kakashi hasn’t been studying up on his languages as he fairly drags Gaara out onto the sidewalk. 

Looking at Gaara’s flushed, confused face, Lee wishes not for the first time that night that he was already at home, the two of them tucked safely together in his bed. 

“I embarrassed you,” Gaara says slowly. His expression crumples, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

If there’s one thing that could possibly make the night worse for Lee, it would be Gaara crying. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Lee says, hands coming up in a soothing gesture. “I’m not embarrassed. I’m just … tired. Don’t you want to go home?” He reaches out to rub Gaara’s shoulder, and Gaara leans into the pressure. 

“Home?” Gaara hums. “I’ll do a Sand Transportation jutsu, it’ll be faster.” He raises his hand to start forming the seals. 

Lee hastily grabs Gaara’s hands between his own. 

“Nope, we definitely will not be doing that!” he says brightly. “Why don’t I give you a piggyback ride instead?”

Lee crouches in front of his partner, bracing himself for maximum stability. Reluctantly, Gaara climbs onto his back and nuzzles his warm face into the crook of Lee’s neck. 

“Lee?” he slurs, once he’s situated and Lee has a firm grip around his legs, Gaara’s stomach pressed against the length of his back. “Can you take the weights off? So we can go _fast_?”

This is one request with which Lee is happy to comply. He stows his weights in an alley (they’re much too heavy for anyone to steal, except maybe for Gai-sensei, or Kurotsuchi’s girlfriend, if she really put her mind to it), and then he takes off. 

The journey back to his apartment feels like flying, Gaara’s plastered laughter bright in his ears and his knees tight around Lee’s waist. 

Even later that night, when he’s sitting next to the toilet bowl and holding Gaara’s hair back from his clammy face, he can’t keep the smile from that moment off his face. 

He doesn’t even really mind the walk of shame to get his weights the next morning.


End file.
